Chapter 5
Chapter Five
The conversation around the breakfast table at Longbourn was lively, if not a bit silly. Mr. Bennet asserted, more than once, how silly they all were to be in such a flutter over the ____shire militia now encamped near Meryton.
“I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well - and indeed, so I do still at my heart.”
“Oooohhh,” Lydia sighed out. “Captain Carter most certainly looks very fine in his red coat. I do hope I see him sometime today. It’s not fair that he leaves for London on the morrow.”
Both Kitty and Lydia continued to commiserate the loss of Captain Carter and how Colonel Foster no longer attended Miss Watson’s gatherings, preferring the company to be found within Clarke’s library.
Mr. Bennet only lifted his newspaper higher, although he did manage a conspiratorial wink at Lizzy as he mouthed the words, ‘silliest girls in England’.
Their dialog was halted by the entrance of a footman bearing a note for Jane from Netherfield Park and the information that a servant awaited her reply.
“Well Jane,” Mama eagerly called out, her eyes flashing with excitement. “Who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.”
“It is from Miss Bingley.”
Mama gasped and fluttered a hand up toward her chest, throwing a triumphant glance toward her husband who’d lowered his paper to watch his eldest daughter.
“Read it aloud, please Jane.”
My dear friend,
Lizzy snorted and Jane sent her a reproving look.
IF you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day’s tête-à-tête between two women can never end without a quarrel.
Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this.
My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. Yours ever,
Caroline Bingley
Mama’s brow furrowed and she muttered, “Dining out, that is very unlucky.” She paused and glanced out the window.
From where Lizzy sat, she could almost hear the wheels turning in her mother’s mind. What was the point of Jane attending Netherfield Park if Mr. Bingley was not there to admire her beauty? She also glanced out the window, noting the darkening clouds.
“May I have the carriage?” Jane asked, folding the note and slipping it into her dress pocket.
“No,” Mama said in a distracted manner.
“No?” Disbelief colored Jane’s tone.
“You may go on horseback. It is going to rain and then you’ll have to spend the night.”
“Mama!” The shocked look on Jane’s face was unmistakable. Their mother spoke often about ‘throwing’ her daughters in the way of rich men, but this was going too far. Even Mr. Bennet started to say something, then shook his head and retreated behind his newspaper.
Coward.
Lizzy couldn’t help the thought which flashed through her mind and was taken aback when Papa lowered the paper again and stared at her in anger. Surely, he hadn’t heard her thoughts. He stood.
“Lizzy, a word with you please.”
He’d heard. Now what?
As she left the room, she heard Mama tell Jane she to go on horseback because the gentlemen would be using their carriage and the Hurst’s had no conveyance of their own.
Mr. Bingley’s sisters would have no choice but to offer her refuge for the evening.
Lizzy knew Jane would acquiesce because even though she disagreed with the machinations of their mother she also longed to be in the company of Mr. Bingley, if only for a morning breakfast.
Papa held the door to his book room for her and once she’d passed by him and settled in her favorite chair, he closed the door and moved around his desk to face her.
Minutes stretched by as he assessed her thoughtfully over steepled fingers.
For her part, she tamped down her expressions with fierce determination.
“Although I’m displeased at what you think of my actions, or lack thereof,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “I am pleased at how well you control your magic given your lack of training.”
“I’m not sure I know of what you speak, Papa.” Her heart rate tripled and she wound her fingers together in her lap to control their trembling.
“Do not take me for a fool, daughter. I’ve watched over the past four years and noticed how refined my wife and two youngest daughters are in public when you are amongst them and how some of your thoughts are parroted by them.
” He pushed away from the desk and paced toward the window, watching the servant from Netherfield Park leave on horseback.
“Although I realize now a memory cleansing spell would not work on you, I don’t know how you evaded my questions on your sixteenth birthday. ”
Knowing she couldn’t lie to her father, she replied by saying, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but as I waited for Jane in the hall, I heard your questions and her answers. In my heart I knew I would have answered in a different manner and it frightened me.”
He turned from the window. “You heard us?”
“Yes.”
With a heavy sigh he leaned back in his chair. “I never thought I’d ever explain our true family history again, but it seems I must.”
“Whatever do you mean by true family history?”
“There has been a Bennet at Longbourn for well over five hundred years. The only difference is that at one time our family name was Benoit.” He stood and tugged the bell pull.
“This will take some time. We’ll need sustenance.
” Within minutes Mrs. Hill arrived and he asked for her to bring a pot of tea and some biscuits.
While they waited Jane was seen cantering down the drive.
Soon, their tea arrived and Papa began his story.
“Sometime during the fourteenth century one of our ancestors moved from France to England, settling here in Hertfordshire and over time the name Benoit evolved into Bennet. In 1789, after the storming of Bastille, my father sensed we were in danger and sent me here to take over Longbourn. My cousin had passed away and the estate fell to my father who begged me to leave France, take the name Bennet and begin fresh.”
“But, Papa. Why was our family in danger?”
“You are clever, my girl.” Papa’s smile was faint but warm. “My birth name is Louis Alexander Tomas Henri Benoit.”
“Thomas Henry Bennet,” she whispered.
“Yes, it’s important to stay as close to the truth as possible.”
“I understand the French Revolution and resulting reign of terror caused many citizens distress, but why the need to flee the country?”
“Because, my dear, although my birth name was Louis Benoit, my father was Viscount Louis Antoine Pierre Charles Benoit and bearing that name caused my beloved father and mother to meet their fate with Madame Guillotine in 1794.” Her soft gasp was barely heard over the sudden torrential rain which pounded the ground.
He glanced out the window and said with a soft smile and rubbed his wrist, “Ah, Fanny knew it would rain. I’m convinced she has a touch of the Fae.
” He faced Lizzy again. “Your mother and I returned to France in 1791 after Jane’s birth.
Foolish me, I wanted my parents to meet their first grandchild, however, not long after we arrived the King attempted to flee the country and everything became madness and chaos.
We managed to slip out of Normandy to Calais and came home to Longbourn where I cleansed your mother of her memories. ”
Lizzy rose to her feet and went to her father, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“I am saddened by your history but glad you are safe.”
He patted her arm, “Thank you. I am resigned to it now, although at the time I was devastated.”
She returned to her chair and sat. “Why are you now telling me our history? What is the purpose of all this?”
“Not only is our family name ancient, so is our magical lineage.”
“Why did your father not use magic to save their lives?” Lizzy interrupted her father.
“Maximilien Robespierre,” he spat out. “He systematically arrested nobles and aristocrats, all in the name of independence for the common man. What the common man did not know was that he and his cadre of followers were practitioners of the Dark Arts. My father, as a Miatharan, could have transported himself to safety but my mother was human and he would not abandon her.”
“Miatharans?”
“Aye. It is the name of our people. Males are always born with magic while there is faint chance a female will exhibit magical powers on her sixteenth birthday.”
“That’s why you questioned us on our birthday.”
“As I said. You are clever.”
“What did you mean by ‘transported’?”
“Miatharans can, with years of training, transport themselves anywhere they desire They can also converse with their thoughts, which is how I knew of my father’s demise. We had a long conversation the day before he met his death.”
“Is France the only place where Miatharans lived. Are there any in England?”
“Aye, our kind came over with William during the Norman invasion, but they are few in numbers now. In France, the ‘Reign of Terror’ claimed the lives of over seventeen thousand souls. At least ten thousand were Miatharan, including the Royal family.” He picked up a biscuit from the plate and dipped it in his tea before taking a bite.
“I took almost draconian steps to ensure I birthed no male, much to your mother’s long-suffering horror, by weaving a charm on her wedding band, as it is the one piece of jewelry she does not remove.
I also heavily warded Longbourn to ensure no male progeny. ”
“Do the wards have a taste to them, almost like cinnamon?”
“Yes!” Startled, Papa dropped his biscuit into the tea. “You can taste them?”
“Not as much as before, but sometimes when I walk around the little garden off the west parlor, I taste cinnamon and crave a baked apple tart.”
“Since Lydia’s birth and the doctor’s news your mother would bear no more children, I’ve not bolstered them on the solstice.”
“Why do you hide your magic, Papa?”